


Will Invent For Food

by OrangeAxolotl



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU, BAMF May Parker (Spider-Man), Disabled Tony Stark, Gen, Homeless Tony Stark, Homelessness, Irondad Bingo, Tony Stark Still Has Arc Reactor, Tony Stark is a Tech Gremlin, Trans Peter Parker, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000, dumpster diving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-29 03:36:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18770380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrangeAxolotl/pseuds/OrangeAxolotl
Summary: There was a man Peter passed every day on his way home from school. He was scraggy and unkempt and very obviously homeless. He had long brown hair with some peppering of grey that hung in his face, and a beard to match. No matter how warm the day was, he covered himself in a thick jacket that hung off his bony frame. When it was rainy or cold, he sat in the subway. When he was chased off from there, he did his best to cling to awnings and the sides of buildings. But the most distinctive thing about him, what made Peter actually take notice of this one man in the entire homeless population of New York, was the cardboard sign he carried around with him. It read, in slightly shaky capital letters:WILL INVENT FOR FOODBut most of the time, Peter didn’t think about him. He went to school, absolutely killed at decathlon, took his T shots, made up secret handshakes with Ned, was Spider-Man, was yelled at by Aunt May when she discovered he was Spider-Man, and loved New York City with all his heart. There just wasn’t enough time to worry about this one homeless man.





	Will Invent For Food

“Hey guys.” Peter landed on the ground with a quiet thump, then straightened up and waved. There were three men on the scene, two young strong guys standing over an older man, who was clutching his side and wincing. He’d heard the muffled thuds and pained groans from a few streets away and it had NOT sounded pretty. “It’s a nice night to not beat up defenseless old dudes, don’t you think?” 

He placed his hands on his hips and took an exaggerated breath, ignoring the pained grunt of “M’not old.”

The guys hadn’t budged, and were just staring at him. “Are you guys gonna scram or...?”

The one wearing sunglasses—really? It was the middle of the night how could you even see?—began moving threateningly towards Peter.

“Guess not!” Peter vaulted over him, somersaulting midair as he did so, shooting a web right between his shoulder blades. He yanked as he landed and ducked as Sunglasses soared over him, crashing into thug numero dos. “Aw, sweet!” He cried. He hadn’t been expecting that to work.

They were getting up now, tripping over each other, and they just looked pissed. Whoops. Peter jabbed the second one in the stomach, and was just about to follow it up with a hook when Sunglasses’ fingers locked over his web-shooter. 

“Dude, really?” Peter began, then gasped in pain. The actual pressure barely registered, but the metal began crumpling and several sharp edges scraped his wrist. “Okay, fine.” He twisted around and grabbed Sunglasses’ arm. He looked up and their eyes met for a second, then Peter swung. “Yeet!” He went sailing several feet before crashing into a lampost. He scrambled to his feet shakily, and began running, leaving the tall skinny one behind.

“You ready to leave, man?” Peter asked, spreading his arms invitingly.

Beanpole didn’t answer, just started running. Peter let him take a few paces before raising his good arm and letting a web fly and wrap around the ankles. He toppled to the ground, and he sent another strand of webbing after him, binding his arms to his sides.

Sunglasses was getting further and further away, and Peter was about to give chase when he raised his arm and immediately cried out in pain. He brought his hand down to his chest, suddenly becoming aware of the blood running down his arm and towards his elbow. He clawed off the web-shooter, wincing and biting his lip as he pulled chunks of metal out of his arm and took a closer look at it. It was broken and crumbling in his hands. That’d be a bitch to fix, he might even have to make an entirely new one. He shoved it into his pocket, putting pressure over his wrist to try and stem the bleeding, then glanced over to the guy Sunglasses and Beanpole had been harassing. God, he had to take care of him first. He was still half crumpled on the ground, but was watching Peter with wary eyes. It was the same guy who sat outside of his subway stop every day panhandling, the one with the weird invention sign.

“Hey man, you okay?” Peter jogged over and knelt next to him, helping him sit up.

“Yeah,” he grunted, leaning against him heavily. He brought a slightly shaky hand to his face and worked his jaw for a bit, wincing. His eyes darted to Peter’s wrist, then down to his hoodie pocket. “Your thing’s broken, lemme take a look at it.”

“That’s, er, not necessary.” Peter pulled away a bit.

“That’s, uh, you’ve got those little cartridges; I’m guessing whatever you’ve got in there is under a lot of pressure?”

“Uhhh, yeah.” Peter shifted a bit.

“I thought it had to be mechanical.” He nodded, satisfied. “Could I see the broken one? Just for a bit, I’m not gonna steal your work. What would I be able to do with it?”

Peter worried his lip for a bit, then nodded, pulling it out of his pocket and passing it over.

He turned it over in his hands, looking at it from every angle. “This is really good work, thank you.” He passed it back, then started to get up, groaning as he did so. Peter hopped to his feet and supported him as he stood.

“Thanks.” His eyes darted towards Beanpole, who was still laying on the ground tied up. “I’ll be good from here. Take care of him. And your arm.”

Peter waved as he jogged towards the criminal. “Have a nice night!”

* * *

Peter twisted at the straps of his backpack as he exited the subway. The guy from last night was right where he always was, sitting against the wall with his sign and collection tin in front of him. Instead of walking past him as usual, Peter headed right up to him and stood over him.

“Uh, hi,” he said. “What do you invent?” He pointed at the sign.

The man glanced up. “Hey Spider-Kid, how’s your wrist?” he asked casually.

Peter froze. “Uhhhhh….Wh-what are you talking about? Who’s Spider-Kid? I think his name is Spider-Man—it’s way cooler than Spider-Kid. Not that I’d know. I’ve never even heard of Spider-Man before.”

He stared at him pointedly, and Peter whined softly. “Listen, man, that’s a secret. Please don’t tell anyone, okay?”

The guy shrugged. “Didn’t plan on it.”

“How’d you even know?”

“I didn’t, not for sure.”

At Peter’s look, he continued. “You’ve walked past me almost every day for months. And the first time you talked to me is right after I had my first chat with...our mutual friend. I’m a genius, but it doesn’t take one to connect two and two and make a bluff.”

Peter gaped a moment. “C’mon, man.”

He swung off his backpack and plopped down a short distance from the guy. He was vaguely aware of the odd looks people sent their way, but, true to the New Yorker style, no-one cared enough to comment on it. The guy watched Peter warily as he dug into his backpack, then pulled out a lunchbox.

“My aunt made me lunch today, but I bought school lunch.” He passed over the lunchbox, and the guy’s eyes went slightly wider before he tore it open.

“Thanks, Kid.”

“Peter. Uh, my name is Peter.”

“Sure thing, Kiddie.” He took a large bite of Peter’s sandwich. “‘M Tony.”

“Could you tell me about your inventions?”

Tony raised an eyebrow at Peter, his mouth full and cheeks bulging. He swallowed deliberately. “As long as you share with me a bit about your webbing. Who manufactures it?”

“Uh, I do.”

“Impressive.”

“I made the formula in chemistry class.”

“No joke!” Tony cast an approving eye over Peter. “You figured that out in a middle-school chemistry lab?”

“High school.” Peter scowled. Tony snorted, and his scowl deepend as he realized Tony was fucking with him.

“Not many high-schoolers would be able to figure something like that out even with a fully-stocked lab.” Tony reached into his blankets and wiggled out that a beat-up notebook. He thumbed through the pages for a bit, and every single page Peter caught a glimpse of was completely covered with scrawling notes and doodles. 

“I was never so much of a chemistry guy myself, but those web shooters?” Tony found what he was looking for and flipped the book around to show Peter. “Those were great, but you can improve them.” He pointed at a sketch and a few notes squeezed at the side of the page. “Take a look at that.”

Peter took the book gingerly; it was so tattered that he was afraid that it would fall apart in his hands, and peered closely at his work. “Oh shit, yeah!” he exclaimed. “That’s actually a really good idea!”

“Of course it is,” Tony scoffed, digging inside Peter’s lunchbox again. “All my ideas are good.”

Peter’s eyes began wandering over the rest of the page. “Are these...all your invention ideas?”

“Not all of them,” Tony said. “I’ve got more in my head. There isn’t enough room.”

“These are all super cool!” Peter cried. He pointed at a sketch in the middle of the page. “What’s this one for?”

* * *

“Hey Tony!”

“Hey Pete!”

Since the first time, Peter had stopped to talk with Tony almost every day after school. Sometimes it would only be for a few minutes before Peter ran off to be Spider-Man. Other times he would settle in for an hour or more to brainstorm inventions together or just chat and do homework while Tony offered the occasional piece of advice on a math problem or something. Tony had mentioned a few times that he’d gone to MIT, and at first Peter hadn’t believed him (what would he be doing in the gutter if he had?), but now Peter could safely say that Tony was definitely smart enough to have gone to MIT, even if he hadn’t actually attended.

“I got you something,” Peter said, brandishing his backpack.

“Oh?” Tony asked, clearly expecting one of the sandwiches or Happy Meals Peter often brought.

“Yup,” Peter swung his backpack onto the ground and crouched to dig through it. He pawed around briefly and pulled out the thick sketchbook. “I babysat for our downstairs neighbors for the money,” he explained, passing it to Tony, “‘cause most of my allowance goes to snacks ‘cause my metabolism is super whack now.”

Tony ran his hands over the cover almost reverently, and swallowed thickly. He cracked the spine and stared at the clean pages that were just waiting to become a new home to all the ideas his brain could barely keep straight.

“D’you like it?”

“Yeah, uh,” Tony looked up at Peter and smiled, his eyes crinkling around the corners, “I love it. Thanks, kid.”

* * *

“So why don’t you ever really move?” Peter asked, plopping down next to Tony. “I was wondering, ‘cause like. There’s better places, I’d think. Like, uhhhhh, I feel like the library would be a good place to hang out, ‘cause it’s open to the public and there’s lots of people there and you could maybe use one of their computers.”

“Nice to see you too, squirt.” Tony grumbled, closing the notebook, which had already become almost entirely filled. “It’s ‘cause the folks around here don’t give so much of a shit if I hang around. Libraries usually don’t like people loitering.”

“I hang around the library all day all the time, though!”

“You also have a haircut.”

Peter went quiet after that, frowning a bit.

“Also, it’s way too far,” Tony said, tapping his chest through his thick jacket. “The old ticker’s not the greatest, and walking long distances doesn’t really, uh, sit well with it.”

“Oh...what’s the problem with it? If you don’t mind me asking!” Peter added hastily.

Tony frowned, mulling it over, then shakily unzipped his jacket a bit. “There’s some shrapnel in there. It’s a few years old by now, but it started fucking things up really bad a few months ago, and my...pacemaker doesn’t help.” He pulled down his collar, showing Peter the circle of light embedded in the center of his chest.

“Holy shit!” Peter exclaimed, leaning in and just barely stopping himself from reaching for it. “Is that a mini arc reactor? There’s a big one of those powering Stane Industries’ factories,” Tony grimaced a little bit, “and they’ve tried to make little ones but they haven’t been able to and you have? You have basically infinite power right there!”

Tony pushed Peter away. “Yup,” he said, “and you’re gonna keep it on the dl.”

“But you could-”

“Peter!” Tony snapped. Peter closed his mouth and recoiled slightly. Tony gave him a pained look. “This is like a… spider-level secret. Okay?”

Peter paused, then nodded. “Okay.”

* * *

“Aw, check it out!” Peter crowed, clambering out of the dumpster, brandishing the beat-up laptop.

“Holy shit, I think that’s older than you.” Tony leaned forward in the wheelchair, reaching for it. Peter had cobbled together the chair over the last few weeks out of old bicycle parts, a broken rocking chair, and other various bits and pieces. It wasn’t great, but it was a hell of a lot cheaper than an actual wheelchair, and giving Tony mobility had resulted in them starting to explore the city together, actively seeking out the necessary parts for their various projects.

Peter passed it over. “I think we could probably use the screen from this one?” he asked. “We’ll have to double check there’s not a buncha dead pixels and stuff, but it looks pretty intact. And who knows what the insides are like?”

“Yeah.” Tony began unscrewing the back, and pried it open, grimacing as the smell hit him. “Did they….spill milk in here?” He wrinkled his nose, casting an eye over the moldy electronics. “And there’s cat hair all over it, what the fuck!”

Peter winced. “Ewww.”

“I’m gonna take off the screen right here, I don’t want this in the bag.” Tony decided.

“Thank you.” He didn’t want that thing within 50 feet of his room.

“Find anything else in there?”

“Nope,” Peter sighed. This moldy laptop was the only good thing they’d found the entire day. His head jerked up suddenly and he automatically began shrugging off his jacket.

“Someone need Spider-Man?” Tony asked.

“Yeah, uh...” Peter chucked his jacket at Tony. Underneath he’d been wearing his Spider-Man suit. He pulled up his mask. “I’ll be right back!” And he was already off and swinging.

“Stay safe, kiddo!” Tony called after him.

* * *

“Hey Spidey, I gotcha something.” Tony took off the headphones and picked up Peter’s laptop, handing it towards where he was sitting at the kitchen table, doing his homework. Tony had been over several times now, and was beginning to become a common sight around the Parker household.

Peter glanced up from his math worksheet. “Hm?” he hummed, distracted.

“Put that down and take it!” Tony urged, shaking the laptop a bit.

“Okay!” Jeez. Peter grabbed the laptop. A program he didn’t recognize was open and running. He looked at Tony incredulously.

 _“Hello, Peter.”_ The voice was feminine and gentle, but Peter startled a little anyways.

“H-hi?” Peter looked at Tony, who only grinned. “Who are you?”

_“I am an artificial intelligence designed by Tony for you, Peter. I learn and grow much like a human being.”_

“Holy shit!” Peter cried, “how advanced are you?”

_“Extremely.”_

If Peter didn’t know better, he’d say that she was being smug. She certainly sounded like she had all of Tony’s snark.

“How’d you make her, Tony?” Peter asked.

Tony drummed his fingers on his notebook. “I started writing her code a few days after you brought me this. Couldn’t actually start typing and tweaking the code until I got your laptop, but she’s a mildly edited version of an AI I made a few years after I graduated MIT.”

 _“I’m currently working on condensing my program into an app you can download on your phone,”_ The AI cut in. _“I’ll be able to accompany you on your patrols or anywhere you wish, Peter.”_

“This is amazing, Tony!” Peter said, eyes shining, “does she have a name?”

“I think that’s up to you, Squirt,” Tony said.

Peter thought for a bit. “What did you name the program you based her off of?”

“JARVIS.” Tony smiled, like he was remembering an old friend. “I told everyone his name stood for Just A Rather Very Intelligent System, but that was a lie. I named him after the man who raised me while dear old dad gave zero shits.” He scowled briefly, but it passed. “Human-Jarvis died right before I started work on AI-JARVIS, and programming him is what helped me get through those months.”

Peter was quiet for a bit, hoping that Tony would elaborate more without being pressed, but when he didn’t, Peter spoke. “What happened to JARVIS? The AI one, I mean.”  
Tony shrugged, “I, uh, don’t know. I lost my house and everything and wasn’t able to pack him or any of my other AIs and projects up before I...left. I’d guess he’s either living with one of my old friends or he’s been shut off ever since I left.” He stared at the floor.

“Why don’t you try talking to one of your old friends again?” Peter asked.

Tony stared at the floor a bit more, then looked up. “You should name her Skynet.”

Peter could see what Tony was doing. He wasn’t an idiot. But Tony was uncomfortable, so he just scoffed. “She might get ideas and try to live up to her namesake.”

 _“I probably would,”_ she agreed.

“How about…” Peter thought. “Karen. From Spongebob.”

“Wasn’t she evil too?” Tony asked.

“How dare you! Karen was a queen!”

* * *

“Hey, May.” Tony grinned up at her as she opened the door. “Is Peter here? I have an upgrade for Karen.”

“He’s at a movie with Ned,” May said. “But come in! It’s almost done and I’ll text him that you’re here.” She stepped back to let Tony wheel himself in, then closed the door behind him. “Do you want anything to drink? Or I made zucchini bread earlier. It’s a little doughy, but good.”

“Coffee, please. And zucchini bread would be wonderful.”

“I think he was planning on visiting you after the movie anyway,” May said over her shoulder as she turned on their coffee maker. “We got that kind of coffee Peter said you like, by the way.”

“Thanks.” Tony left his chair next to the door and headed to the couch to sit.

“Yeah.” May sat down next to him and passed him a plate with a slice of zucchini bread on it. “So what are you adding to Karen?”

“Just something to make her run faster and fixing up a couple things I missed last time.”

“You know, you should talk to Ned,” May suggested. “Peter never got super into coding, but Ned’s really good. He’s won some contests.”

In the kitchen, they heard the coffee maker finish, and May stood up. “I’ll get that,” she promised.

Tony took a bite of his zucchini bread. It was mushy in a way that zucchini bread shouldn’t be.

“Here you go.” May handed Tony his mug and sat down across from him. “Also...there is one thing I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.” She paused briefly. “I’m a little concerned about Peter spending so much time with you.”

Tony tilted his head and she continued.

“You’re a good friend, to both of us, and Peter loves Karen and I appreciate you helping with the oven and everything you’ve taught him. But also...we know nothing about you. Trust goes both ways, and the fact that you don’t trust us is, frankly, a little concerning to me. We don’t know anything about you or your situation.” She looked Tony straight in the eyes. “I would do anything for Peter and I want to make sure he’s safe around you.”

Tony breathed out heavily through his nose. “It’s not…” He set down his coffee. “It’s very complicated.”

“Try me.” May said firmly.

Tony was quiet for a bit. He tapped his nails on his mug, looking for words. Then: “I...wasn’t a good person. I was an asshole and I. in short, I gave zero shits. I hurt people. But then something bad happened and someone I trusted...he, well, he tried to kill me. Nearly succeeded. That was my wakeup call. But it was too late and it was too late for any...second chances or anything. I got…stuck. For years.” He finally returned her gaze. “I think you figured it out. Peter’s a bit too young to remember, but you’re smart. You’ve seen this,” he tapped his arc reactor, “I’m willing to bet you’ve connected the dots.”

May nodded. “I have.” She placed her hand over Tony’s and gave him a reassuring squeeze. “What happened in Afghanistan?”

“Could we wait for Peter?” Tony asked. “I think...I want him to know too.”

* * *

Peter knocked on the door firmly, then stepped back to wait, rocking a bit on his heels. He'd scoped out the building as Spider-Man not half an hour before, so he knew he was home. He should be. If this was his place. Peter trusted Ned and his ability to find pretty much anything on the internet, but god, it would be so awkward if this was wrong.

The door swung open, revealing a tall black man with a distinctly military posture and haircut. "I don't want to buy girl scout cookies, Kid."

Dread twisted in Peter's gut, "I'm not a girl!" He said defensively, then swallowed. Shit. That sort of thing was the perfect way to get clocked. "Sorry, uh, Mr. Rhodes. Oh shit, should I call you Colonel Rhodes? Is that something civilians call you by too? Sorry."

He held up his hand to quiet Peter. "You can call me Rhodes, Kid. What do you need?"

"Okay, uh, Mr. Rhodes," Peter said. "Well, uh, hi, my name's Peter." He made to hold out his hand for a handshake, then thought better of it. "Basically...." He took a deep breath and looked up at Mr. Rhodes. "Tony's not dead, he lived after Afghanistan and I'd been talking with him for months before I even knew he was Tony Stark!"

Rhodey blinked. "He’s what?"

"Tony's alive-"

"I heard you the first time, Kid." Mr. Rhodes waved him off. "I mean..." He pinched the bridge of his nose and screwed his eyes shut. "How? And why wouldn't he _tell_ me?"

"Well, he'd tell the how story better than me. But, uh, he doesn't know I tracked you down—well, my friend Ned helped. He didn't wanna tell you because he's worried about Obadiah Stane and that he might try and kill you too."

"...Too?"

"Uhh," Peter said. Shit. "Yeah, uh, Stane paid those guys to attack."

"Do you have proof? For any of this?"

"Yeah, uhh." Peter worked his phone out of his pocket and opened his photos app. He scrolled past memes and dog pictures for a few seconds before finding what he was looking for. It was a selfie he'd managed to convince Tony to take with him a few days ago. He showed it to Mr. Rhodes who stared at it for several moments with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Where is he?"

"Queens, he slept on our couch last night."

"Let's go."

* * *

Peter unlocked the front door with fingers that were trembling in anticipation and excitement, and pushed it open. 

Tony was sitting at the table with his back to the door, but at the sound of it opening he started to turn around. "Where'd you dis-" He stopped shortly as he looked towards them. Peter stepped to the side, watching Tony's gaze flicker between him and Mr. Rhodes.

"You look like shit, Tones." Mr. Rhodes' voice was shaky and forced and he scrubbed at his eyes.

Tony breathed deeply for a few moments, then forced out an "I feel like shit." But a smile was creeping its way across his face, and he stood up shakily.

Peter glanced towards Rhodes, who was grinning. As Rhodes moved forward to Tony, Peter glanced away feeling like he was intruding a little. But curiosity made him look back right away.

Tony collapsed against Rhodes, burying his face in his shoulder and threw his arms around him. "Rhodey." His voice was thick and muffled by Rhodes' shirt. "Rhodey Rhodey Rhodey. I'm so sorry."

"You're such an asshole." Rhodey pressed his lips against the top of Tony's head. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me anything?"

"Obie nearly killed me, and he would've-"

"I don't give a shit, Tones."

Tony snorted and disentangled himself from the hug. "That's what I love about you." He sat back down in his chair. "I also hate it, so much."

"What have you been doing all this time?" Rhodey asked.

"Well, recently? I've been hanging around with Junior over there." Tony nodded to Peter, who froze, then leaned against the wall, crossing his arms and hoping beyond hope that he gave off "yeah I'm chill" vibes.

“Before that? Trying to get back into the country. Still technically not here legally. I wanted to hack into Stane’s company and find evidence against him, but my heart started to fail and I just...got distracted with getting by day-to-day.” Tony placed a hand on his arc reactor, and took Rhodey’s with his other. 

Rhodey squeezed his hand gently. “We’re going to take him down. You and me. And Pepper. She was fired from the company years back, but we kept in touch.”

“And Pete. Kid’s a genius.” Tony added, his eyes dancing with a light that Peter hadn’t seen in them before. He turned around and stretched out his other hand to Peter.

“You wanna give Obie his reckoning, Spider-Kid?”

Peter stepped forward and grabbed Tony’s hand. He grinned, glancing between Tony and Rhodey and back to Tony again.

“Hell yeah.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr @arrowmantic


End file.
